


Gold

by flawedamythyst



Series: Winterhawk Tumblr ficlets [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Invictus Games, M/M, This worked better for me, Yes I know that Invictus has archery but not shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 19:51:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15444570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: Before Clint Barton had come along, with his smug grin and his endless bullseyes and his fucking biceps, Barnes had been the golden boy of the US Invictus Games shooting team.





	Gold

Fucking Barton had ruined everything. Before he’d come along, with his smug grin and his endless bullseyes and his fucking biceps, Barnes had been the golden boy of the US Invictus Games shooting team. He’d been the guy they all knew was going to get a gold, no question, which meant he’d also been the guy they’d all wanted to be around, as if his aim were catching.

He’d be the first to admit that he was kinda moody when he first got invalided out of the Army, and that he’d lost all the easy charm and friendliness that he’d had before he’d lost his arm. With the team around him, supporting him and making stupid jokes and generally treating him just like nothing had changed because he was still one of the guys, he’d been reclaiming that.

And then Barton had wandered in one day, given everyone a vague smile, and proceeded to beat the range top score by more than Bucky wanted to think about. He’d been so damn proud the day he’d set that high score as well, bubbling over with the knowledge that his injury wasn’t going to stop him from being damn awesome at at least this one thing.

“Good shooting,” Fury, the coach, had said. “Guess we’re looking at getting both gold and silver this year.”

Bucky had told himself that he meant Barton would be getting silver, but deep down he knew the truth. He couldn’t compete with someone that good.

He tried anyway, of course. He was way too stubborn not to, especially after hanging out with Steve for most of his life. That shit was catching.

He got close to Barton’s scores, but he never quite seemed to pass them, and it was the most infuriating thing.

He tried everything. Coming early and staying late, finally letting Stark tamper with his prosthetic, even shit-talking. Which would have worked better if he didn’t have to wait until Barton had finished shooting and was looking at him so he could read Bucky’s lips, but whatever.

“Which service were you even in? There’s no way the Army woulda had you when you can’t even go out for pizza without banging your face up.”

Barton gave him a wink that would have worked better without the bruises swelling around his eye. “Sorry, sweetheart, that’s classified.”

Like shit it was. He was just trying to talk himself up.

The asshole still beat Bucky with one eye swollen half-shut. Bucky had to take a few deep breaths to get over that.

So, he should have felt a rush of relief when Barton’s friend (partner? keeper? who the fuck knew) rushed into the range calling his name.

Barton didn’t look around from his target, of course, not until she came to a stop next to him and waved a hand in front of his face.

“Oh, hey Nat,” he said, turning towards her to watch her lips as she spoke.

“I owe you twenty bucks. They finally gave in,” she said without bothering with a greeting, and thrust a letter into Barton’s hand. “I guess you were right about wearing them down with a one-man letter-writing campaign.”

Barton’s whole face lit up as his eyes skimmed over the letter. Bucky had never seen anything like it, and, shit, why hadn’t he realised Barton was fucking beautiful?

Oh no. Nope. He definitely was not going down that path.

And then Barton spun around to turn the grin on Bucky and he felt his knees actually go weak for a second.

“Guess you get to be king of the rifle-shooting castle after all, Barnes,” he said.

“What?” said Bucky.

Barton waved the letter. “They agreed to make archery a sport at this year’s games! I am going to clean up!”

Bucky blinked at his enthusiasm, then glanced at Natasha, who rolled her eyes. “As much as it pains me to admit this idiot is good at anything, he’s even better with a bow than a gun.”

Barton wasn’t looking at her, he was too busy packing his rifle up. “I am so done with this bullshit,” he was saying. “Time for some fucking classical elegance.”

“You’ve never been elegant in your life,” said Natasha.

Bucky didn’t listen to Barton’s response. He was too busy thinking that, for all he hated Barton having muscled in on his space, he’d enjoyed having some actual competition for once, and he didn’t want to lose it. At least, not until he’d proved once and for all that he was the best shot.

“You could compete at both,” he heard himself say. “That way you’d really clean up.” What the fuck was he saying?

Natasha nudged Barton, who hadn’t been looking at Bucky, and he looked over with an expectant eyebrow raise, waiting for Bucky to repeat himself.

Fuck, why had he said that?

Except, maybe he’d been so busy pretending to hate Barton that he hadn’t realised that shooting was a lot more fun with him around, with his happy grins, and the competition he provided, and his incredible biceps. Did Bucky really want to lose that?

Nope. He met Barton’s eyes and repeated himself.

Barton’s smile grew wide. “Aw, Bucky, I knew I was growing on you.”

“Like a fungus,” said Bucky immediately, but Barton ignored him.

“No way I’m not going to spend all my practice time with my bow now that I can, but if you’re really gonna miss my face that much, I guess you could come with me next time I go for pizza.”

He winked at Bucky and, holy fucking shit, had he been flirting this whole damn time?

Bucky ran his mind back over the last few weeks. Oh man, he totally had been. His mind flailed at the realisation and the pause stretched out into a silence. Some of the beaming happiness started to melt off Barton’s face.

Oh shit, Bucky didn’t want to see that.

“I guess someone’s got to stop you falling on it,” he said.

Barton’s grin at that was even brighter, and Bucky couldn’t help wondering just how he was going to look when Bucky kissed him.


End file.
